


Passionate Hearts and Undoubting Minds

by zade



Series: Love and Liberty [2]
Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Sex, Banter, Body Worship, Bondage, Caning, Chapter Four:, Chapter Three:, Cock & Ball Torture, Cock Warming, Consensual Somnophilia, Deepthroating, Double Penetration, Established Relationship, Explicit Consent, Forced Orgasm, Gags, Hair-pulling, Human Furniture, I forgot about it, Immobility, Impact Play, Kinda, Latex, Light Bondage, Lingerie, M/M, Masks, Masochism, Masturbation, More Bondage, Nipple Clamps, Nipple Torture, Object Insertion, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Overstimulation, Painplay, Post Orgasm Torture, Praise Kink, Predicament Bondage, Rimming, Role Reversal, Rope Bondage, Sadism, Scars, Scent Kink, Sensation Play, Sensory Deprivation, Sexting, Shibari, Size Difference, Sounding, Spanking, Temperature Play, Verbal Humiliation, Wax Play, always painplay, chapter eight:, chapter eleven:, chapter five:, chapter fourteen:, chapter nine:, chapter one has:, chapter seven:, chapter six:, chapter ten:, chapter thirteen:, chapter twelve:, chapter two has:, chemical play, cumming on faces, dismissive sex, domjolras, endurance kink, fantasy threesome, foot pain, i gotta tag it there's a lot of banter, i guess??, i will make that a thing if i have to do it myself, it's a thing, just assume most will have bondage, more more bondage, more orgasm denial, more painplay, more predicament bondate, more rope bondage, r is big and muscly and enj is gay, ring gags, somnophilia roleplay, subtaire, sweater fucking, tbh, think menthol or bengay or tigerbalm or icyhot, under the desk sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-01
Updated: 2018-10-30
Packaged: 2019-07-23 04:30:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 13,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16151636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zade/pseuds/zade
Summary: This is the place where my Les Mis kinktober fics live! All of these take place in a modern au where Enjolras and Grantaire have an established relationship, where they sometimes also have very consensual kinky fun





	1. Day One: Deepthroating and Masks

**Author's Note:**

> this chapter contains: gags, deepthroating, masks, light bondage, anal sex, gayness

Enjolras is pretty sure he’s going to have to buy a new toy box soon, but he can’t help it. Every time he sees a toy he imagines it on (or in) Grantaire and then thinks with his dick instead of his brain or his wallet. Still, he can’t feel that guilty when Grantaire’s wrapped up looking like a gift for him.

He already has a few masks, but this one has interchangeable parts and there’s something about leather on Grantaire’s face that makes Enjolras want to squirm as he mashes his hand against his fly.

“You going to be good for me?”

Grantaire is on his knees in front of Enjolras, with the blindfold already snapped into place on the harness and his hands bound to the d-ring on top of his head. It gives him a place to rest his arms, but Enjolras can see his shoulders are already getting sore by the way he flexes them, trying to stretch them out in his limited field of movement. His mouth is pried open by and enormously wide ring gag and Enjolras wants.

Grantaire tries to say something, but it comes out an incoherent grumble, and Enjolras grins.

“I’m going to assume that was ‘yes, sir,’ and not ‘eat me,’” Enjolras says, and Grantaire snickers, looking up like he can see Enjolras roll his eyes, which pretty much answers that question.

Enjolras picks up the gag insert he left sitting on the bed. Grantaire’s mouth had all but watered at the sight of it and said, “yes, sir, _please_ ,” before Enjolras had even suggested a scene, but it’s a daunting gag. It’s cock shaped, long enough to settle into Grantaire’s throat, and it’s not like he doesn’t have a gag reflex.

“You ready, R?” Enjolras asks him, and Grantaire licks his lips, anticipating. Enjolras guides the silicone dick past the metal ring, and Grantaire moans. It slides all the way in, down into his throat, and Grantaire gags on it, stomach tensing as he tries to stifle it.

It has two snaps that attach it to the mask, and they click with finality. Grantaire moans, and he gags again.

Enjolras watches carefully. He doesn't want to have to cut this short, but he will is he thinks Grantaire is being over ambitious about his limits. Grantaire chokes again, a wet guttural sound, but his cock jumps, so Enjolras assumes that's a positive stimulus. Still…

“You doing okay?” he asks, slipping more into caring boyfriend mode than Grantaire probably wants to hear. Grantaire offers him a thumbs up, then flashes him the middle finger. “Oh, I see how it is.”

He raises his foot and swats Grantaire's balls with the top of it. It's by no means the hardest hit he's taken there, but Grantaire folds double, moaning and choking, spit trailing down his chin despite the gag trying to hold it in. He's wheezing through his nose, but he offers Enjolras another thumbs up, even bent over like he is.

Enjolras walks behind him just to see Grantaire’s back all stretched out. Grantaire is so muscular, and it never fails to turn Enjolras on. “Just for that, I'm going to keep you in this gag until you've learned to properly deepthroat. Hours if it takes it. All weekend.”

Grantaire lets out a plaintive whine, then gags again. He makes to sit up but Enjolras plants a foot on his back and shoves him back down. Grantaire gags again. The angle seems harder on him based on all the loud choking, but he hasn't tapped out yet.

Enjolras drops to the floor, fishes a bottle of lube out of his back pocket, and uses his other hand to press down on Grantaire's back, make sure he stays down. Enjolras undoes his fly one handed, before raising the bottle to his mouth and uncapping it with his teeth. He pours it over his cock, messily, and tosses the lube to the floor, slicking the rest up his cock.

Grantaire huffs, irritated sounding, and the motion of his throat causes him to choke again. The noise goes straight to Enjolras's cock. He presses two slick fingers into Grantaire's ass, but they fucked a few hours ago, so Grantaire's ass is still obliging and wet and stretches easily for him, which hot in some strange way that Enjolras's brain calls romantic.

“Yeah,” Enjolras says, distractedly. “Yeah.” He pushes into Grantaire, snaking his slick hand around to grasp at Grantaire's cock, other hand still pushing Grantaire downwards as he sputters and moans and gags and drools. “Yeah,” Enjolras says again.

He's not gonna last long, not with how Grantaire clamps down around him every time the fake cock triggers his gag reflex. He squeezes down the length of Grantaire's cock, brushing his thumb around the crown, and Grantaire's dick oozes. Enjolras can tell he's close, so he blankets himself over Grantaire's back, still thrusting, so he whispers in Grantaire's ear, “If you cum before me, I'm snapping a lock on that gag until your jaw's so sore you're crying,” which has the desired effect of making Grantaire cum instantly.

He rides the shockwave of Grantaire's orgasm, lets it tug him to his own. He pulls out slowly and rises to his feet, giving Grantaire a moment to sit up cautiously. When he doesn’t do anything for more than a few second Grantaire whines hopefully, then more despairing as he gags again. Enjolras stays still, gives him a minute to think about what would happen if Enjolras actually locked him in this thing.

Once he's all but shaking with exhaustion and anticipation, Enjolras steps in front of him and snaps off the blindfold. Grantaire blinks slowly in the light, eyes wet and eyelashes clumped together with tears. Next time, Enjolras thinks, I'll make him wear mascara. Grantaire holds his gaze as he gags again, spit spilling onto the floor. The tears finally fall down his cheeks and Enjolras gives in and unlocks Grantaire's hands, then releases the harness.

He pulls the gag out of Grantaire's mouth, and he moans as a torrent of spit follows the gag out. Grantaire stretches his jaw then slowly starts stretching out his shoulders. He slides his knees out from under him, sitting on his ass and grins.

“That was fun,” Grantaire says, and winks.

Enjolras rolls his eyes, offering Grantaire a hand up. “Shower, then I'll massage your shoulders.” Grantaire rises eagerly at the promise of a massage, and leans in to give Enjolras a wet kiss on his cheek. “So, something worth repeating?”

“Well I don't know, sir,” Grantaire says with a shit eating grin. “I'm pretty sure you said I'd be stuck in that until I got over my gag reflex, so I think that means we  _have_ to repeat it, right?”

Enjolras feels a swell of affection for this huge dork that he's desperately in love with. “Yeah, sounds right to me.” He can't fucking wait.


	2. Day Three: Sensory Deprivation and Temperature Play (and Chemical Play)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you get a special double update today but the other fill is uhh weird so it's gonna be in the love and liberty outtakes fic [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12462969/chapters/28363143)!
> 
> this chapter has: bondage, sensory deprivation, temperature play, chemical play (and by that i mean like, menthol), pain play

Enjolras ties him down, ropes around his arms and legs. Not quite spread eagle, but close enough that Grantaire is pulled taut. There’s wiggle room if he strains at it, but Grantaire prefers to melt into bondage when he can, and so he melts. Between the blindfold and the earplugs, Grantaire is pretty floaty already, and considering that Enjolras didn’t gag him, he takes that as permission to tell him so. 

“This some tasty bondage, sir,” he says. “Ten out of ten, would recommend.” The earplugs are good, but not so good that he can’t hear Enjolras’s loud bark of laughter. Enjolras is leaning against him, so he can feel Enjolras’s body rumble with words, but he can’t make them out beyond the vague impression that he’s speaking.

Enjolras moves around the bed, occasionally bumping it, and whether that’s meant to comfort Grantaire or is just distracted clumsiness, Grantaire honestly doesn’t know.

He’s floating, relaxing his muscles into his bonds and sinking into the bed when the smell hits him. It smells minty, and he imagines it’s stronger than it otherwise would be because of the blindfold, other senses compensating or whatever. He thinks that’s maybe a long term effect, but he also thinks that maybe he’s special, or spends enough time missing some senses (for the purpose of mind-blowing sex) that his body is adapting. 

“Is my breath that bad?” he hazards, but Enjolras doesn’t give anything away. The smell intensifies, whatever the minty substance is coming closer. Enjolras’s hair brushes his face, and then Grantaire is being kissed thoroughly.

It doesn’t quite distract him from the feel of Enjolras’s hands on his body, on rubbing something onto one nipple, then the other, his other hand stroking up his cock, around his balls, and then pressing just inside his ass. He can feel the texture of gloves on Enjolras’s hands, and they’re definitely slick with something that feels like lube. 

Enjolras keeps kissing him, wet and deep, and Grantaire imagines that he can hear the noises their lips must be making. He’s not sure what he expected to happen, but after that sharp smell, he had expected something other than kissing. The kissing, to be fair, is really good, so it’s not like he’s actually complaining.

Enjolras pulls back and Grantaire can feel himself make a needy moan, and he’s formulating some sentence that will get across both how very deserving of more kisses he is and how offended he is at the lack of them, when Enjolras blows across his nipples and suddenly everything goes haywire. 

It burns. His nipples feel both hot and freezing simultaneously, so cold they burn, and once they’ve started, the agony doesn’t stop. His nipples are hard as rocks and seem to be trying to tighten further, but they can’t and it aches. “Oh fuck,” he says. “Jesus fucking Christ, sir.”

Enjolras hand alights on his cock, and Grantaire has a single moment of animal fear that turns out to be absolutely correct because when Enjolras strokes it once, it lights up in that same painful burn that is freezing across his chest. “Oh no, no no nonono—” He clenches down hard when Enjolras strokes his cock again, and it sets his ass on, fire too. “Holy fucking shit.”

Enjolras flicks his nipple, which fucking hurts, and he howls about it. Enjolras takes that as encouragement, flicking and pinching alternately between Grantaire’s nipples. His other hand stokes slowly up and down Grantaire’s dick, and every touch on his enflamed cock make it burn more. The more he clenches his ass, the more it burns, and Grantaire thinks he might be coming apart at the seams.

He’s panting, body sweating, and the sweat only seems to make his skin burn more. He can’t struggle out of his bonds, can barely struggle at all, and he swears again. Enjolras gives him a double tap on the side, asking for a color. “Seafoam,” Grantaire says. “Seafoam but I hate you, sir. Oh god, I hate you so much.”

He can feel the laugh on Enjolras’s lips as he leans down to kiss him again. He’s desperate, pain wrecking all of his senses, and he’s so overcome that he’s actually shocked when he cums. The pain, if anything, increases, creeping down his cock as he lies there, stuck and vibrating with pain. The mint smell intensifies and he stiffens. He gets a double tap on side, again. 

“Mint, you absolute fucking monster,” Grantaire says, piteously, as Enjolras reapplies the stuff to his chest and cock, hurting all the more now without his need to temper it. Enjolras strokes Grantaire’s cock again, and Grantaire roars with pain.

Enjolras kisses him, and Grantaire let’s himself drift into the pain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello i am gabe racetrackthehiggins and i will not survive the winter


	3. Day Four: Spanking and Crying

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im so tired i hope i did words right?
> 
> this chapter contains: spanking, crying, nipple clamps/pain, really gross loving bdsm

Grantaire is lying ass up on their bed, naked and not at all posed, when Enjolras comes home. If he happens to have his hair mussed the way he knows Enjolras likes, it is definitely a coincidence. The paddle and cane lying next to him are also a complete coincidence.

He’s innocent, really.

Enjolras inhales sharply, like it’s a sight he hasn’t seen before. Grantaire grins, and wiggles his ass. Enjolras laughs, throwing off his backpack and walking towards the bed in quick strides. “Oh, I see how it is. Someone looking for a beating?”

“Yes please,” Grantaire says, winking over his shoulder at Enjolras.

Enjolras’s easy smile turns into more of a smirk, and Grantaire is already hard against the covers. “On a scale of one to not sitting for a week, where are you falling?”

Grantaire waggles an eyebrow. “Like an 8,” he says, slyly. “Sir.”

Enjolras starts with the paddle. He has Grantaire on his hands and knees, laying into the flesh of Grantaire’s ass and thighs with it. It’s a silicone one, more smack than wood, though also more yielding. Enjolras is stronger than he looks, and Grantaire is sure he won’t be able to sit right for days. He can feel the heat growing, bruises forming on his ass and thighs as Enjolras wails on him. His skin warms up quickly, warmth turning into a burning, turning into an ache, and even hard and horny and moaning, the burn grows to the point where he can’t tell if he wants to lean in or away from the blows.

When Grantaire gets too squirmy, Enjolras pulls out a set of nipple clamps and holds them up questioningly. As if Grantaire could say no to that.

He smiles innocently and says, “Olive.”

Enjolras growls and drops the paddle in order to turn the screws on the clamps three or four more times. These ones, Grantaire knows, can get agonizingly tight and from the dark look on Enjolras’s face, he knows he’s in for it.

Enjolras walks around the other side of him, reaching around Grantaire’s back to rub his nipples until they’re hard enough to clamp. Grantaire tenses in anticipation, but it’s not enough and when Enjolras snaps the clamps on, the pain is so bright and overwhelming that Grantaire’s arms give out. The shift in position means that the clamps are dragging against the bed, sending little shockwaves of pain through his chest with every tremor of his body.

“Still olive?” Enjolras asks, and Grantaire can tell that Enjolras has a smirk on his face. To be fair, he’s maybe earned it, with how thoroughly he’s taking Grantaire apart with very minimal effort.

“Maybe more like artichoke,” Grantaire says, as cheeky as he can get when the pain is making him feel all floaty and warm. Enjolras chuckles, reaching under him to do something with the chain between the clamps and Grantaire moans at the pain of it. He lifts himself up shakily, looks down at his chest and sees a cord tied to the chain, but he can’t comprehend why.

Grantaire gets it when he is tugged forcibly back into position by his nipples. Grantaire yells, “Fuck!” unable to handle the pain without swearing.

“Thought I’d help you out, love, since you seem unable to keep still today. Still within the realm of green vegetables?” Enjolras runs his palm against Grantaire’s ass and thighs, which would maybe be soothing under a different circumstance, but only serves to remind Grantaire how sore his ass is.

“Olives are technically a fruit,” Grantaire says, weakly.

Enjolras tugs the chain hard. “Behave.”

“Yessir,” Grantaire says, and he’s breathless. “For you, anything.”

Enjolras laughs, tugs the string a little harder until Grantaire backs up all the way into him. “Ready for the cane? Or reconsidering your decisions?”

Grantaire smiles, and wiggles his ass. This results in Enjolras smacking it, but that was kind of the game plan anyway. “Ready for some cane action, sir. I’ve decided that sitting is overrated.”

Enjolras laughs again. Grantaire can hear him swish the cane through the air and tenses his ass, anticipating the hurt. The next blow lands right on the underside of his ass, where it meets his thigh, and Grantaire howls. He shoots forward, but immediately jumps back when the tether to his nipples pulls too hard. He realizes he’s crying because when he opens his eyes everything is blurry.

“What hurts more?” Enjolras asks after two more blows. “Your nipples or your ass?”

Grantaire isn’t entirely sure, his whole body wrapped up in pain so he can’t tell what’s worse or even what’s what parts are or aren’t hurting. Enjolras pulls the cord again and the pain in Grantaire’s nipples flare and he sobs, tears falling heavily down his cheeks. “Nipples, sir.”

“Hm. Guess I’ll have to work harder.” The next strike is lower on his thighs, a burning streak of fire across his legs and he yells, caught between the pain in his chest and ass, moving backwards and forwards between pains. The next hit is high, on the thickest part of Grantaire’s ass, and it’s agony. Grantaire sobs, his arms shaking, but he’s still hard, even after Enjolras canes him again and again. 

It’s going to be a long week. Worth it, though.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i have TWENTY SEVEN DAYS LEFT IN KINKTOBER and im gonna melt.


	4. Day Five: Sadism/Masochism and Feet (Pain)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh god uhh this chapter is maybe incoherent but i tried
> 
> this chapter contains: rope bondage, foot pain, regular pain, strappado bondage, predicament bondage sort of
> 
> im extremely tired y'all

Enjolras leads him to the chair, and Grantaire mimes tucking imaginary coattails under himself as he sits, smiling up at Enjolras. The ropes are out, and Grantaire is vibrating with excitement. Ropes equal hurting, usually complicated hurting, and he likes it when Enjolras makes things difficult for him.

Enjolras tangles a hand in Grantaire’s hair and yanks his head up. Grantaire groans, leaning towards Enjolras, scalp tingling with the pain. “Am I in for it today, sir?”

“Mhmm,” Enjolras says distractedly, pulling Grantaire’s hair into a ponytail and tying it into place with a length of rope. He wraps the rope around his fist, and uses it as a leash to pull Grantaire’s head down to almost his knees. There’s a metal ring hanging just behind the chair, attached to the anchor points that Enjolras put in their ceiling, and Grantaire is expecting to get attached to it, and so is not shocked when the tie on his hair gets looped around it, anchoring his head in place.

Enjolras pulls Grantaire’s arms behind him, yanks them straight, and attaches them to the ring. It’s an awkward angle, but not painful yet; Grantaire is sure that it’ll get more painful any second. 

“Stick your legs out straight,” Enjolras tells him, in that distracted way he does when he’s busy wrapping Grantaire up in ropes. 

Grantaire does, and Enjolras starts wrapping the ropes around Grantaire’s feet, the right, then the left. With his head pulled back he can’t see what Enjolras is doing, but can feel him tying the rope around his feet individually, then joining them together at his ankles. The ropes feel a little uncomfortable but nothing painful or hard yet.

Enjolras ties a collar of rope around his neck, knotted so it won’t tighten if he pulls, and then connects it to the rope on his ankles. Grantaire is still sitting, so the tether loose, but he’s pretty sure it will keep him bent over when he’s standing.

“How are you doing?” Enjolras asks, checking his knots.

“I’m sitting in a chair,” Grantaire, maybe a little more sarcastic than he needs to be. “Considering that sitting is pretty much all that happening, I would say I am about as good as anyone who is sitting in a chair.”

“Okay,” Enjolras says, rising to his feet with a smirk. “Let’s make you a little less comfortable, then.” 

He pulls the rope that’s acting as a pulley between the anchor and the metal ring, and as it rises Grantaire is pulled quickly to his feet because the tension on his arms is too much, and very suddenly he gets what Enjolras was doing to his feet because he is standing on knots and it’s excruciating.

“Oh fuck you, sir.” Grantaire tries to shift around on his feet but they’re tied too closely and he can’t shift off the knots. The rope around his neck is short enough that his legs are stuck bent, and he can feel the burn already beginning in his calves. Enjolras raises the ropes a little more, until Grantaire’s head is tilted backwards at a painful angle and his arms are strappado, almost in a straight line to the ceiling. 

“I was worried you were too comfortable,” Enjolras says, pushing the chair backwards and running a hand down Grantaire’s back. Grantaire assumes that Enjolras is sitting in the chair, because he makes an exaggeratedly contented sigh, and when his hands rub Grantaire’s ass they are much lower to the ground than Grantaire expects.

There is no risk of Grantaire being too comfortable now. Every time he tries to shift his feet to take pressure off of a painful spot, he lands on another, more painful one. His legs are shaking now, trembling with the strain, and each tremble reignites the pain in his feet. The angle his head is pulled back at is agonizing, and his every shift of his body causes a stab of pain through his shoulders.

“How about now?”

Grantaire grunts. “This? I could do this all day.” The strain is evident in his voice, a combination of the exertion and the angle of his neck. His feet throb.

“Good,” Enjolras says, and Grantaire can feel Enjolras’s slick fingers in his ass. They’re replaced quickly by a large plug, one that he isn’t entirely stretched enough for, and one that he is almost certain vibrates. His ass throbs as it tries to adjust to the size of the plug. His theory is proven when the vibration starts, pressing right up against his prostate and vibrating with an intensity that makes him shake in his bonds. “Then you’ll be fine to stay here for a while. You cum once, I’ll let you try and suck me off. Then if you can cum again, and I’ll think about letting you out.”

His feet spasm which makes his whole body shake with pain, but his cock is responding to the vibration. He groans, sinking into the agony. “Yessir,” he says, and thinks he might be slurring his words.

“You’re so fucking good for me,” Enjolras says, which is just about as good as Enjolras’s hand on his dick. He groans, body trembling, and tries to buck into Enjolras’s grip. The motion changes the pressure points on his feet and he yelps, but there’s nowhere for him to go. He’s stuck, exactly where Enjolras put him. “Yeah,” Enjolras says, almost reverently. “Yeah, just like that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> something u wanna see? lemme know!!


	5. Day Nine: Bondage and Lingerie

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter contains: orgasm denial, rope bondage, lingerie, BANTER, an implication in direction of titfucking and strength bc those were the other two prompts for today lmao

Grantaire’s collection of lingerie had steadily grown once he had learned that Enjolras appreciated it, too. It’s not just that he likes how it feels and looks; Grantaire likes how Enjolras looks at him when he’s all wrapped up in lace.

It shouldn’t surprise him then, when Grantaire unveils his new red lace panties with a matching bralette, that Enjolras wants to stare. Enjolras, Grantaire has found, is one of those people that never heard the phrase “look with your eyes, not your hands” growing up, but that suits Grantaire fine. Within minutes of first seeing look, Enjolras has Grantaire on the bed, tying ropes every six inches or so up his body, attaching his legs to each other and his arms to his torso, until he’s thoroughly trussed and leaking through the red lace.

He tenses against the rope but it holds him; he's strong, but Enjolras always takes his strength into account when he wants Grantaire to stay put.

Enjolras stands back for a moment, staring, so Grantaire gives in and tries to wiggle himself out of his bonds, or at least convince Enjolras he did a good job so he’ll come back. “I had assumed this would be a participatory outfit, sir, but it seems I was mistaken.” Enjolras’s face morphs to concern, so Grantaire keeps talking before Enjolras ruins the mood. “Don’t get me wrong, I am forest-green as fuck, sir, I just thought there’d be more mutual orgasms.”

Enjolras grins; the cat that got the cream. He stalks forward, climbing swiftly onto the bed and straddling Grantaire’s midriff. “Some of us will definitely be experiencing orgasms, R.” He reaches behind him and gives Grantaire a perfunctory stroke through the lace, which is just mean. "It's just a matter of which."

“I thought you’d be pro orgasmic socialism,” Grantaire says, trying to wiggle his cock into contact with something, anything, but his attempts only cause the lace to drag over the head of his cock tantalizingly, and he groans in frustration.

Enjolras pulls his dick out of his pants and begins stroking it, using his unoccupied hand to tease Grantaire’s nipples through the lace. The feeling makes them perk up, ready for the abuse, and Grantaire's almost embarrassed at how stupidly masochistic his entire body is. “Those are fine ideals, but I think our sex life should be reflective of the world as it is, and as it stand our sex life is a democracy that we’ve voted me in charge of.”

Grantaire starts to laugh, but Enjolras squeezes his nipple harder, and the sound gets lost in a moan. “Shall I call you president, sir?”

Enjolras’s eyes are closed, and his chest is moving quickly. He’s close, Grantaire knows that Enjolras is close, but this is very short for a scene involving ropes, and Grantaire gets a little thrill of excitement in his belly, wondering where this will turn. Rope scenes are never as short as this, for them. “Only if you don’t want to cum for a month.”

Grantaire groans at that. It’s a fantasy they throw around often—not something he’s sure either of them would really like, but easy enough that the threat of doing it isn’t unrealistic. Enjolras could tell him at any point that he’s not allowed to touch his cock and it’s not like Grantaire would disobey him.

Enjolras, he thinks, must be having similar thoughts, because he groans dramatically, before cumming all over Grantaire’s neck and face. It’ll itch if it dries and Enjolras seems in no rush to wipe it off. “That was good, but I’ve got some reading to do,” Enjolras says, lifting his leg and sliding off of Grantaire.

“And I’ll just lay here, shall I?” Grantaire’s cock gets harder at the thought of lying next to Enjolras, fully bound, while Enjolras reads and occasionally pays attention to him.

“Yes,” Enjolras says decisively. He reaches for a book. “Oh, how rude of me! You wanted to cum, too, no?” 

Grantaire nods emphatically, and Enjolras grins. He stands, moves around to their toy crate, and comes back with small vibrator. He nestles it under Grantaire’s cock but outside the lace, and it comes to life, buzzing for a few seconds, stopping, and then buzzing stronger. Grantaire tries to tense his body, bring the vibration in closer, but it doesn’t work; he is stuck. It starts in on a pattern of short buzzes, then longer. The cum on his face is already beginning to dry out.

“It’s on random,” Enjolras says, clarifying, and Grantaire watches him pull a book off his nightstand and start to read. “Don’t worry, I’m sure I’ll be up for round two shortly. In the meantime, you’re more than welcome to get yourself off. But please be quiet about it, since I’m reading. I’d hate to have to gag you.”

Grantaire is in a love with a sexual dictator, he decides. He bucks his hips to the best of his ability. If he can’t get off now, he supposes, with the vibrator teasing him to near insanity, maybe he’ll be able to convince Enjolras during round two. He doubts he’ll have to wait that long.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello i am gabe racetrackthehiggins and this might be some of the best dialogue i've ever written


	6. Day Ten: Hairpulling and Waxplay

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is short! some of them will be short, as i am a very busy grad student <3
> 
> this chapter contains: waxplay, hair pulling, mild bondage

Grantaire goes to his knees easily for Enjolras. He always does, but it never ceases to surprise Enjolras just how willing Grantaire is to kneel for him. He cuffs Grantaire’s hands behind him, but that’s as much a formality as anything. He knows that Grantaire will do his best to be good, and if Enjolras tells him to keep his hands behind his back, Grantaire will almost certainly do so. 

It’s just that Grantaire likes to be bound, and Enjolras likes to see him all wrapped up.

He didn’t blindfold Grantaire when he lit the candles, so Grantaire must know what’s coming, but he smirks up at Enjolras, like he’s daring him. “Got something for me, sir?” he says in a doubtful tone, which Enjolras knows is just meant to rile him up, but Grantaire really does know how to push all his buttons.

Enjolras picks up a candle with a decent puddle of wax in the center, and grabs a fistful of Grantaire’s hair, yanking his head back. “Head back, R,” he says, like he isn’t forcefully keeping Grantaire’s head back, and Grantaire moans.

He tilts the candle carefully; they haven’t done wax before, and while painful experiences that Grantaire doesn’t like are few and far between, they do exist. It splashes on one nipple, then the other, although his aim is a little wide and Grantaire’s whole left pec is splattered.

“Oh fuck, sir,” Grantaire moans, pulling forward so Enjolras will tighten the grip on his and pull him back.

“Good ‘oh fuck’ or bad ‘oh fuck’?” Enjolras asks, pulling the candle back in case of a bad “oh fuck.”

“Good,” Grantaire says. “Do it again, sir?”

Enjolras tips the candle again, pouring wax on Grantaire’s chest and stomach and dripping a little on his cock, just to see what he’ll do.

“You gotta get closer, sir,” Grantaire says breathlessly. “Too high up. Can barely feel it on my cock at all.”

Enjolras laughs, then drops into a squat. It’s harder to keep his grip on Grantaire’s hair from here, but worth it to see how Grantaire’s eyes flutter as he pulls into the strain. Enjolras pours the wax again, much, much closer to Grantaire’s dick.

“Oh fuck!” Grantaire yells as the wax hits, arms wrestling in his cuffs and tugging away from Enjolras’s hand in his hair.

“Green ‘oh fuck’?” Enjolras asks him, but he’s pretty sure he knows the answer.

“Avocado ‘oh fuck,’” Grantaire replies, breathlessly.

Grinning, Enjolras does it again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello im gabe and im tired


	7. Day Eleven: Sounding and Object Insertion (and CBT)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> for ohgodsabove who messaged me "i bep;ieve in u"
> 
> this chapter is a straight follow up to my last sounding one, and it features: sounding, bondage, cbt, so much pain play, mild object insertion, aftercare, offhanded mention of possible future needle play

Enjolras starts with a string of beads—some almost two inches across—that sit in random order on the string, pressing one after the other into Grantaire ass as Grantaire moans. He ties Grantaire up. Grantaire is bound, wrists clipped to cuffs around his thighs, and ankles spread to the corner of the bed. Grantaire’s cock had gotten immediately hard as soon as Enjolras had taken out the sounds, and Enjolras had grinned. “Remember what I said was going to happen the next time we used these?”

Grantaire grins. “Bring it, sir.”

Enjolras starts with Grantaire’s balls. Grantaire laughs when Enjolras pulls a stack of brightly colored metallic pipe cleaners out of his bag. That’s okay. He won’t be laughing when Enjolras is done with him. “Don’t want you to cum too soon,” Enjolras says, brandishing a pipe cleaner.

Concern melts onto Grantaire’s face. “Wait hold up, sir, golderod as fuck—you’re not going to stick that thing in my dick, right?”

“No, no,” Enjolras says, but he’s still grinning. “I’m going to do this.” He starts at the top of Grantaire’s balls, wrapping the scratchy metallic plastic in a tight spiral.

“Oh my god sir, that’s fucking terrible,” Grantaire says, whining and shifting in his bonds. It’s not a no, though, so Enjolras takes another, wrapping slightly lower until Grantaire’s balls are elongated by stripes of piper cleaner, pulled taut. “It feels like fucking needles.”

Enjolras ducks his head, offers Grantaire’s balls a gentle suck. They twitch, and Grantaire moans. “I could get behind putting needles in your balls.” Grantaire moans again. Enjolras steps away to glove up and pick the sound he wants to start with.

The bigger sounds goes in easier than it looks like it should. Maybe not for Grantaire, who is making tiny whimpering pants and straining against his bonds as the steel slides into his piss split, but easier than Enjolras thought it might. Gravity pushes the metal down, and gravity doesn’t care about Grantaire’s moaning or comfort, it just forces the flesh to yield and Enjolras is transfixed.

He tugs at Grantaire’s cock, stroking him and watching his dick engulf more of the sound on the upswing. He pulls the sound out a little and holds Grantaire’s cock as the sound pushes its way back down. Enjolras pumps Grantaire’s cock with one hand, uses the other to caress his balls which pull up when they come into contact with the sharp-feeling metallic fringe, causing a feedback loop of pain which Enjolras loves. Grantaire gasps through his teeth and Enjolras thinks that he will never get tired of the sound.

“Remember what’s going to happen, R?” Grantaire groans, lifting his hips to move with Grantaire’s hand. He decides that Grantaire has had enough time with this sound and swaps it for a slightly bigger one, to a chorus of Grantaire moaning and yelping. “You ready to cum with that thing in your cock?”

Grantaire moans. “Please!”

“No yet,” Enjolras says. He grasps Grantaire’s cock and compresses it tightly, pressing the flesh into the unyielding metal.

“Fuck—sir—I, fuck! I can’t, I can’t, please!”

He relents for a second, lets Grantaire catch his breath. Grantaire’s face is wet with tears and his breathing is wet and fast, but his cock is still standing hard and twitching around the sound. “Color?” Enjolras lets him cool down, stroking his side and his cock slowly.

Grantaire sniffles. “Chartreuse.”

Enjolras hesitates. “Isn’t chartreuse a yellowy green? Does that mean yellow, or…?”

“You pick today of all days to learn colors,” Grantaire moans. He sounds wrecked, and Enjolras loves it. “Emerald, but like, fuck you, sir.”

Enjolras grins. “Noted.” He strokes Grantaire faster, utilizing every trick of Grantaire’s body that he’s learned to get Grantaire close, fast. The rod is slipping in and out of Grantaire’s cock, and he can tell he’s about to cum because his balls try to retract and then he winces, full body, at the pain. Enjolras pauses his stroking. “Deep breath,” he warns, then squeezes Grantaire’s cock against the steel again, slowly increasing the pressure.

Grantaire screams, incoherent. He’s thrashing to best of his ability, and Enjolras has to keep his grip on Grantaire’s cock tight, so he doesn’t hurt himself on the sound. Enjolras backs off a second so Grantaire can pull a breath, then squeezes again. When he releases Grantaire’s cock for real, Grantaire is crying and shaking, but there’s precum smeared on the sound.

“I’m going to make you cum, now, love, and it’s going to hurt. Color?”

Grantaire takes a shaky breath. He says, “Shamrock,” weakly, and Enjolras takes a moment to add some extras to his aftercare plans. Maybe a bath, or a milkshake, or both. He kisses Grantaire’s belly, then starts jacking Grantaire off in earnest.

Grantaire gets close a few times before the pain of the pipe cleaners wrapped around his balls are too much of overcome. When he finally does cum, it’s with such force that some seeps past the sound which is already stretching his slit too wide, and Grantaire roars. The rest, Enjolras knows, is pushed backwards into his bladder, and Grantaire shakes with discomfort of it.

Enjolras loves watching him shake. “Sound out first, or you want me to remove that shit from your balls?”

Grantaire moans, panting and sweaty. Enjolras kisses his hip, waits for him to reply. “Balls first, sir,” Grantaire says between pants.

Unwinding the pipe cleaners is quick work. Grantaire sighs, sagging with the feeling once the constriction is gone. “Deep breath,” Enjolras tells him again, then pulls the sound out of his cock. More cum seeps out, but not nearly as much as he usually cums. His slit is red and inflamed, and the noise Grantaire makes as Enjolras removes the metal is agonized and raw and hot. “You’re amazing, R.”

Grantaire sniffles again and clears his throat. “Can you untie me now, so that we can cuddle forever, before I kick your ass?”

Enjolras nods, smiling. “Mhmm, but let’s get you to the bathroom first.” He unhooks Grantaire’s hands from his thighs, then his feet from the bed. “Was that all right, R?”

Grantaire pulls Enjolras on top of him, huddling with him. “It was good.” He kisses Enjolras’s cheek. “It’s always good with you.”

Enjolras is warmed by that, even though he knows it’s not true. They’ve had missteps, but he’s glad this wasn’t one of them. “Love you, Grantaire,” he says.

Grantaire is near asleep, murmurs, “Love you.” He falls asleep before Enjolras can insist on clean-up and uti prevention, but that’s okay. He decides to leave the anal beads in for later, so he can make Grantaire cum again when he pulls them out. Not now, though. Grantaire has definitely earned a break.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we're almost half way through the month and i've already lost my ability to tell if this shit is good or not


	8. Day Thirteen: Distracted Sex and Gags (and Cockwarming)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks to ohgodsabove who helped me in my fic path conundrum today
> 
> this chapter has: ring gags, under the desk sex, orgasm denial (a little), verbal humiliation, dismissive sex, vibrators!!

Grantaire is reasonably sure that Enjolras isn’t actually getting work done, but the uncertainty sort of works for him. He can hear Enjolras typing, at least. Enjolras had claimed that Grantaire’s whining was distracting him too much from his work, and Grantaire’s response that Enjolras take some time teach him a lesson had if nothing else yielded results.

The lesson Enjolras decided on was patience.

Grantaire is on his knees under Enjolras’s desk, ass stuffed with a vibrating plug, and mouth stuck wide with a ring gag, Enjolras’s flaccid cock resting on his tongue. Enjolras had refuse to tie him up, telling Grantaire to grab his own wrist and keep his hands behind his back at all times by his own force of will.

It’s a good thing Grantaire is stubborn.

“You make a good cock warmer,” Enjolras says, and Grantaire gets so hard it aches.

He thinks it’s been twenty minutes, based on how his knees are beginning to feel bruised. He looks up but he can’t see Enjolras at all because the desk has a lip and it’s straight in his eye line. He flexes his tongue against Enjolras’s cock, and is rewarded by Enjolras grabbing his hair and pulling it. Grantaire can’t move his head into the pull because his face is fixed on Enjolras’s cock, and he moans.

“Cock sleeves don’t move, do they?” he asks, continuing to type one handed.

Grantaire tries his best to say, “no sir,” with a dick on his tongue, and the grip in his hair tightens.

“They don’t speak either.” 

Grantaire doesn’t rise the bait, and is extremely proud of himself for it. The term “cock sleeve” makes his dick jump, leaving a wet smear on his belly. 

Enjolras must see Grantaire’s cock jump or sense it somehow because he says, “Slut,” affectionately. The motion of his tongue on Enjolras’s cock has made it start to harden, and Grantaire barely resists the urge to suck. Enjolras sighs, exaggeratedly. He pauses his typing for a second, and Grantaire thrums with excitement. “Well at this point you’ve distracted me. Less a cock warmer than a fleshlight now, hm? If that’s how you want to play it, finish what you started, then you can sit there while I finish my work.”

Grantaire groans, and begins working Enjolras’s cock as best he can with his mouth held so wide; no real suction, just wet and warm and thrusting. Enjolras begins typing again and he has to be typing nonsense—he _has_ to be, but the continued casual dismissal makes Grantaire leak like a faucet. He doesn’t touch himself, though, because Enjolras told him to keep his hands behind him and he’s going to.

Enjolras cums quickly and Grantaire swallows as much as he can, but some spills out of his mouth, and Enjolras doesn’t even acknowledge it. “Good boy,” Enjolras says, but he says it like it’s rote; he’s distracted, he’s _working_.

Grantaire groans, and Enjolras gives him a pat on the head which lands partially on his face, like Enjolras isn’t even paying attention to where his hand lands. Dismissive.

“I’m going to finish writing this article and you’re going to sit there and keep my cock warm and not get me hard again. And if you’re very, very good, then I might suck you off when I’m done.”

Grantaire moans, but then steadies. The vibrating increases and he moans again, barely resisting the urge to touch his cock. Enjolras will be done soon. Probably. It doesn’t matter, Grantaire is going to be very, very good, for as long as it takes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im so tired y'all


	9. Day Fifteen: Overstimulation and Human Furniture (if you squint)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter contains: bondage!!!, overstimulation, post orgasm torture, human furniture in the vaguest sense, forced orgasms, multiple orgasms
> 
> im not saying i wrote this sitting waiting for my friend in the writing center on campus but that is exactly what i am saying

Grantaire can't move at all. He's tied down kneeling, ankles to thighs to waist and legs pressed together; elbows roped loosely behind him and wrists attached to his waist. His cock and balls are circled with twine, presses his balls into two, painful separate bundles, and cock connected to the rope at his waist so it couldn't soften. Not that it would. He's anchored to the floor with ropes on all four sides that connect from his collar through four eyebolts on the floor and back to the thick circle of ropes at his waist. He can’t move in any direction, he can’t do anything, and he’s diamond hard.

Seeing how much movement Grantaire still had (almost none) he had anchored Grantaire's hair to his collar and gagged him with ball of knotted rope so thick Enjolras had needed to spend time carefully easing the massive thing into Grantaire’s mouth.

It is immobility in the most complete way; he is a bundle of strain and ache and non-movement.

It would be hard enough without the prostate massager pressed inside him and against his perineum, but Grantaire knows Enjolras always likes to go above and beyond.

Enjolras is naked in front of him, lounging on the couch, with one hand on his cock and the other in his ass, staring at the tablet resting in Grantaire's pinned fingers and against his sweaty chest. The tablet showing the porn he is currently jerking off to.

The boy on the screen (Grantaire assumes the one getting fucked, but can't see because his head is pulled back so far, so that the only thing in his field of vision is Enjolras) moans, and Grantaire echoes it.

“You're so good for me,” Enjolras says reverently, jacking his cock faster. “You're a fucking TV stand, just sitting there, so good and not moving for me.”

Grantaire strains against the rope, wanting to move, wanting to cum, wanting to bury his face in Enjolras's ass. Every muscle moment makes the massager rock back and forth like he's being fucked, scraping against his prostate mercilessly. The tablet wobbles but doesn't fall.

“If that falls-” Enjolras pauses to catch his breath and harden his face. “If that falls, I'll make you regret it. Regret it for days.”

Grantaire shakes. He doesn't want that, and god, if the screen shattered, but his body is throbbing in confinement. The man on the screen says, “You like that, slut?” and Enjolras laughs breathlessly.

“He's talking to you, Grantaire. Do you like this, slut?”

Grantaire tries to say yes, but instead a glob of drool escapes his lips and narrowly misses the screen. It trails down his chest, warm not leaving a path of cool as the air hits it. Grantaire tries to shudder at the feeling, but he barely has enough movement for that. The motion presses the massager more firmly into him and as he whimpers he can feel his cock drool.

“Fuck, you're so good, the best painslut I've ever seen, R. Fuck!” Enjolras cums, and Grantaire honestly can't tell if Enjolras was looking at him or the screen, and both are hot in their own way.

Enjolras wipes his hand off on a towel then scampers off the couch, prying the tablet out of Grantaire's hands. “So perfect, R. So beautiful, struggling for me. You want me to untie you or you want a reward?” Grantaire tucks all his fingers but two and Enjolras grins. “Love you, you're so good. I'm going to give you so much pleasure you're gonna be aching with it.”

He starts with the mobility Grantaire has left. He ties narrow thread around the top knuckle of each hand and connects them to clover clamps, squeezing those onto Grantaire's nipples. His wrists are stuck tight, fingers pulled taut, and every cramp and muscle spasm draws the clamps tighter as Grantaire squeals.

Enjolras unwinds the twine from Grantaire's dick and balls one handed, using the other to tap rhythmically on the massager. The assault on his asshole makes his muscles clench and shake, pulling the toy deeper. Enjolras’s palm is warm and wet and tight against Grantaire's cock, and Grantaire has been hard and dripping for what feels like hours already. He's on a hair trigger and then Enjolras's teeth are on his ear lobe.

He cums, twisting against the ropes, unable to double over but feeling the need to. His nipples ache, fingers pulling away hard and his muscles burn and he's screaming, ass clenching instinctively and everything is too much.

“God, you're good,” Enjolras says. “So beautiful and obedient.” He strokes Grantaire through the aftershocks, and Grantaire waits for Enjolras to stop, but he doesn't. “Cum again for me.”

Enjolras's thumb swipes over the head of his cock and it's so agonizingly sensitive that he thinks he might white out. He shakes his head as much as he can but he barely has room to move at all and he's not safewording so Enjolras keeps going. The touch is too much on his skin, and he breaks out in a fresh coat of sweat, making his skin tingle as Enjolras’s touch make his nerves frizzle and burn. It takes painful ages until he’s really hard again, and by that time his muscles are so tense that every jolt on the massager is like an electric shock and the pain in his nipples grows and grows as he gives in and let’s his hands drop. 

The second orgasm is like a tidal wave. It comes upon him suddenly and wrecks him. Grantaire’s entire body is one fire and he screams, vibrating with it. He can’t do another, he can’t. His mind is goo and all his muscles are tense and loose at once and his cock burns like a brand with every touch. He’s coming apart at the seams, held together only by the ropes and Enjolras’s hand on him, which isn’t stopping. Enjolras focuses on the head of his dick again and Grantaire shrieks. The touch is light but insistent and Grantaire is so sensitive it might was well be a needle.

“You’re doing amazing, love. Incredible. Fuck, you’re so beautiful like this. One more for me, please? One more, because you’ve been so good.”

Grantaire starts crying, sobbing in earnest, and Enjolras taps the massager again. One more. He can do one more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> half way half way fucking party!!! feel free to tumblr me or throw some cash my way


	10. Day Seventeen: Masturbation and Orgasm Denial (and Scent Play and Sensation Play)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> for ohgodsabove who requested sweater porn. this is uhh that i think
> 
> this chapter has: masturbation, negotiation over text, orgasm delay, scent play, sensation play, fucking a sweater
> 
> idk it's the 17th cut me some slack
> 
> thank u to jessiedress and threadandflowers for being my kink explainers, it turns out im too sex repulsed to properly understand scent kink lmao

Grantaire has had his eye on the sweater for a while. One of Enjolras’s previous favorites—because the man was always cold and constantly bundled up—the sweater had been relegated to the At Home subgenre after Enjolras had torn a hole in it. Still, as it was his favorite, he had refused to throw it away, and wears it all the time when he is home.

The sweater is cashmere, cream colored, and it smells like Enjolras. And it’s lying, unattended, on their bed.

He’s not sure what about it makes it hot. The scent of Enjolras triggers in him a warmth and sort of protected feeling, but also a sort of sexual heat. It’s the same feeling he gets when they’ve spent a lazy weekend in bed and then the sheets smell like Enjolras, only Enjolras compulsively changes their sheets all the time, but this sweater, as outwear that he uses sporadically, misses that fate. 

It’s lying on the bed and Enjolras is in class, and Grantaire can’t decide how gross it would be to bury his face in the sweater while he humped the bed and then never tell Enjolras. Probably pretty gross, but not so gross he’s ruled it out. His phone vibrates, and he checks it.

The text is Enjolras and it says, “Do you like your present?”

A present. He’s going to kick Enjolras’s ass. Grantaire collapses on the bed, face full of soft sweater that smells so strongly of Enjolras. He’s half-hard already, but now that he knows Enjolras set it out for him, he’s sure there’s something more.

“whats the catch???” he texts back one handed, because the other is stroking over the sweater. Grantaire has a single moment of concern, wondering if Enjolras won’t be able to respond quickly because he’s in class, and Grantaire is going to be stuck, unsure on the bed with his face in a sweater and a half-chub. 

Enjolras, thankfully responds immediately. “Get yourself off. Can’t say I entirely understand it, but I want you to follow that urge of yours.” The next one comes a few seconds later. “Want you to think about how dirty it is. How obvious you’ve been for me to have noticed it.” The final text comes about twenty seconds later, and Grantaire lets himself imagine Enjolras having to stop and control his dick in the middle of class.

The last text says, “Ask me before you cum.”

Grantaire’s cock is completely hard, now. He clenches his fist in the sweater, inhaling the scent Enjolras. He texts back, “can i cum on ur sweater?”

He waits anxiously for the response. “Yes,” Enjolras writes, “but I expect you to lick it off.”

Grantaire groans. He’s absolutely doing that. He shifts his weight so his face is still buried in the soft fabric, and he gets up on his knees so he can wrap his dick in the bottom portion of the sweater. The fabric is so soft that every tiny motion of his face across it sensitizes it, until he’s vibrating with sensation. He wraps his cock in a handful of sweater and moans.

It’s so soft it almost hurts. As he rocks into the feeling, the cashmere brushes against his nipple and it hardens instantly, so tight it aches. The unevenness between his nipples is an irritant, but the type that makes his cock drip. He squeezes the excess fabric around his dick, and jacks it in its fabric cushion.

It smells like his boyfriend, like his dom, like the man he loves, and it’s intoxicating. 

He’s close, way closer than he should be this early. He releases the hand not around his cock and grabs his phone. “can i cum? pls!!!!”

The response is so long in coming that he has to stop holding his dick because he’s worried that he’ll cum before Enjolras responds, and then he’d have to admit that, and probably Enjolras would turn that into a scene, and it’s at this point that Grantaire forgets why he’s waiting for permission at all. Still, he waits. When he does finally get the text, he’s gone back from the edge from waiting. “Yes. But hands off. Grinding only.”

Grantaire whines, even though Enjolras can’t hear it. He can practically hear the way Enjolras’s lips would form those words, how much he’d enjoy torturing Grantaire like this. He balls the sweater up and shoves it around his cock, and grinds into it.

It’s too soft, too yielding, almost irritatingly soft on his cock, and the sensation is overwhelming. The bed still sort of smells like the sex they had the night before, like sweat and Enjolras. He thrusts his hips in circles, trying his hardest to get himself over that lip of sensation. He tangles his hands in his hair, pulling to the point of pain, and rocks his hips, gathering burning friction, and panting with want.. The contrast between the friction and overwhelming softness is what does it for him. Grantaire cums with a shout.

Once he’s come down and he’s caught his breath, he lifts the sweater to his mouth and licks off his cum. The cashmere sticks to his tongue in a way that’s sort of unpleasant and sort of incredible and his spent cock gives a little twitch. With a grin, he lifts the phone and sends Enjolras a picture of Grantaire licking his jizz off of Enjolras’s sweater.

“Brat. I’m in class!”

Grantaire snorts, collapsing sleepily onto the bed. Maybe he’ll be able to convince Enjolras to punish him for his attitude when he comes back home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello i am gabe racetrackthehiggins and im here to write u weird porn


	11. Day Eighteen: Latex and Role Reversal (and Orgasm Denial and Rimming)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter features subjolras and domtaire which is weird for me lmao, latex, sensation play, orgasm denial and rimming!!!
> 
> i have a latex allergy so thank u to the internet and also ohgodsabove for explaining latex to me

Enjolras lubes his arms up first. Grantaire lets him do it himself, so that they both aren’t covered in lube at this point, and besides, Grantaire is holding the gloves. It’s hard for Enjolras, sometimes, to pick scenes that make him really want to sub, but when they had finally saved enough to splurge on some latex gear, Enjolras had jumped at the chance to let Grantaire make him regret it.

It takes time to work the black latex up his arm. It’s tight, a little tighter than Enjolras originally guessed it would be, but he’s immediately in love with the sensation when the glove is barely passed his wrist. They’re careful, because latex tears more easily than it feels like it should. The gloves go up halfway past his elbows, and as soon as they are on, Enjolras can’t resist trying to rub to his skin, but Grantaire says, “Not yet,” pushing his arms back down to his sides.

He likes Grantaire bossing him around, too.

The rubber clings to his skin, tight and already getting warm. Grantaire pushes him lightly into a chair and he goes without fuss, trusting Grantaire’s aim. He’s so hard that Grantaire laughs at Enjolras’s overly enthusiastic dick as he kneels down past it.

Enjolras wonders what the latex tastes like, and shudders.

The stockings come next. They’re thigh-highs, black latex that rest tightly against his skin. Grantaire is still grinning on his knees before Enjolras when he shines up the rubber with lube. He starts and Enjolras’s feet, lubing the stockings first, then the gloves, rubbing firmly against every centimeter. It’s like a massage, but the latex diffuses the feeling, spreads it out and makes it feel alien, and Enjolras’s cock is dripping with want from it.

Enjolras is shining, gleaming, black covered limbs strange and smooth and enticing. Grantaire presses a kiss to place on his thigh just above the stockings, and Enjolras groans. His skin feels sensitized, itching with the sensation and he wants to rub the latex over his skin more than anything, but Grantaire hasn’t said yes, yet.

“R? Can I?” he asks, giving in. 

Grantaire laughs and shakes his head. He spreads Enjolras’s legs, pulling him down the chair until he’s sitting right at the edge. He begins jacking Enjolras’s cock with one hand, leaning in so his face is close Enjolras’s ass, and reaches up with the other to cup Enjolras’s cheek. 

Enjolras groans, pushing into the hand on his dick, already too hard for comfort. He kisses Grantaire’s fingers, his own clenched on the armrests so he doesn’t give in and touch himself. Grantaire pushes his fingers into Enjolras’s mouth and Enjolras sucks on them, eagerly. He loves the feel of Grantaire’s fingers on his tongue, and sucks them like they are his cock. Grantaire fucks his mouth like his fingers are a cock, too, pressing in aggressively and totally.

Grantaire smirks up at him, stroking Enjolras’s dick far slower than Enjolras would himself. Grantaire presses a kiss to Enjolras’s asshole, which makes Enjolras shudder and moan around the fingers in his mouth. “You can touch yourself, babe,” Grantaire says, and begins mouthing at Enjolras’s ass.

Enjolras immediately releases his grip on the arms of the chair, dragging his latex covered fingers over his belly and chest and neck. It drags slightly, friction and muted feeling, and the smell is overwhelming and sexual and strong. He touches his nipples and a ripple of pleasure rips through him. His nipples tighten and he squeezes, rolling his hips back into Grantaire, whose tongue breaches Enjolras’s ass. He licks, gratefully, at Grantaire’s fingers, and moans appreciately.

He wants to be covered in latex. He wants to suck Grantaire’s cock. He wants to cum.

Enjolras curls his toes in their latex surroundings, and shudders. The latex is hot and he’s begun to sweat under it, which makes his skin feel overly stimulated. Everything builds in a hurry, his skin tingling and he’s sure he’s going to cum and then Grantaire removes his hand.

“Please,” Enjolras says around Grantaire’s fingers, squirming. He feels pinned even though he’s unrestrained, and smooths his flat, latex covered palms over his chest. Enjolras is rubbing his legs against the chair legs, desperate for any feeling, the latex making his skin into a mess of sensation and he’s sweating and pulsating with it. 

“Not yet, babe,” Grantaire replies. “Gotta earn it,” he adds, then spears Enjolras on his tongue again.

Enjolras whines, pinching his nipples and bucking into Grantaire’s fist when he returns it to Enjolras’s cock. He’s sure Grantaire has earned this revenge but it’s hard to remember it when his cock is that hard and he wants to cum, desperately.

“Please,” he tries again.

Grantaire laughs, little huffs of breath that make Enjolras’s asshole clench. “Touch yourself more.” Grantaire pulls away to lick a wet stripe across Enjolras’s ass. “Let me see how much you want it.”

Groaning, Enjolras complies, sucking harder on Grantaire’s fingers, putting on show with his hands and his hips and his ass clenching around Grantaire’s tongue. He settles into the feeling; he’s made Grantaire wait way longer—he can do this. He will.

“Love you,” he says roughly around the fingers still twisting in his mouth. Grantaire begins licking Enjolras’s rim with gusto. Enjolras decides that means, “you, too,” and closes his eyes, sinking into the sensation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <3 good night my darlings


	12. Day Twenty-Two: Impact Play and Handjobs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> for the anonymous tumblr user who wanted caning.
> 
> this chapter has: caning!!!! the implication of a handjob, and dirty talk. mostly caning.

Grantaire asks, “Can you tie me up, please, sir?” when he sees Enjolras exit their closet brandishing a cane. He shudders when Enjolras shakes his head. It’s hard to stay still when he’s being caned. Caning walks the line of “painful in a good having-erections” way and “painful in an enjoying not enjoying it at all” way, and if he’s meant to withstand straight pain, then Grantaire would really rather be bound in place.

Enjolras instead marches him over to the wall and makes him stand in pat-down position, with his legs spread and arms raised, palms to the wall. Enjolras kisses his neck, which only a little bit makes Grantaire’s knees entirely weak. Enjolras reaches around him and gives a few perfunctory pumps to his cock, and then Grantaire is hard and aching enough that Enjolras can slip a cock-ring on him.

Grantaire groans theatrically, and Enjolras chuckles.

“Color, R?”

“Pear,” Grantaire says, leaning his neck back in the hopes he’ll receive another kiss.

Enjolras gives in, giving him a kiss. “Pears come in a whole lot of colors.”

Grantaire grins, even though Enjolras can’t see it. “This particular pear is green.”

“Brat.” Enjolras’s hands find Grantaire’s ass, squeezing it in his large hands. “What do you want me to warm you up with: my hand or a paddle?”

Grantaire groans petulantly. “What if we skipped warm up and you just left lines across my ass like wide ruled paper, sir?”

“Uh, no,” Enjolras says, flicking him gently on the ass. “We’re not doing that, because you have class this week and I don’t hate you.” Grantaire groans again, and when Enjolras leans into him, pushing him against the wall, he can feel Enjolras’s hard cock against his ass. “Although next time we have a break from school, I’m going to cane you with no warm up, and you’re not going to be able to sit for a week.”

Grantaire shudders, humping the wall, rubbing his tied cock against it. Enjolras puts a hand against the back of his neck, pushing his head hard into the wall, and begins smacking Grantaire’s ass with the flat of his hand; wide, rapid strikes. Grantaire groans and settles into the feeling. He imagines Enjolras jumping straight to the cane, the sharp bruised lines that would cover his ass. How he would shake with each blow, keeping himself upright because Enjolras wants him to, and stopping himself from covering his ass by sheer force of will. How he wouldn’t be able to sit for a week, stuck standing or kneeling or lying on his belly kissing Enjolras’s boots. 

His ass is red all over. The pacifying hand that Enjolras rubs across it just makes the burning feeling grow stronger. He’s going to hurt and he’s so ready. Grantaire’s cock pulses, and he barely resists the urge to reach down and touch himself.

Enjolras brackets his body, presses him into the wall and presses his demin-clad cock to Grantaire’s ass. The denim feels rough and stingy against Grantaire’s burning ass and he leans into it. “Are you ready for the cane, R?”

“Yessir,” Grantaire says in a breathy exhale. Enjolras presses one more kiss to Grantaire’s neck then steps back, out of Grantaire’s peripheral vision. “Please.”

The swish of the cane cuts through the air, a loud whoosh, and then the cane lands on the top of his ass. It’s a hard stroke and Grantaire can feel it in his bones. Enjolras places two more on the same spot, softer though, like he’s just hammering home his point. The next one is a few inches lower, a soft hit. Grantaire braces for another hard one, but Enjolras keeps landing relatively soft hits in the same spot.

The pain builds, each hit overlapping the pain until each additional hit in the same spot is agonizing. Grantaire scrabbles against the wall, itching for something to hold onto, or be forcibly held against, instead of keeping himself up by his own volition. Enjolras keeps tapping against the same spot until Grantaire yells in frustration at the slowly mounting agony.

“Sir, please!”

Enjolras chuckles, and the next blow is back on the first line, and it’s the hardest yet. Grantaire was wrong, this is worse, way worse. Screw building agony, the hard hit rocks his bones and the hurt between the two is so much that Grantaire can’t distinguish individual hurt anymore, and instead is overwhelmed by the pain of his ass.

The next line is three hard hits in a row and Grantaire howls. “Color, love?” Enjolras asks, taking the moment to rub his hands lightly over Grantaire’s bruises.

He feels fuzzy, the good kind of fuzzy where is pain is bad enough that he starts to drift, aware of the hurt and separate from it at the same time. “Pistachio, sir. I’m hurting real good. ’Sgreat. It’s my weekend, sir, you could even go a little harder.” Enjolras laughs again, and the sound makes Grantaire smile. He likes it when Enjolras laughs.

He’s not sure how many more lines Enjolras gives him. Enjolras goes back and forth between the lines, darkening them when they need it, and alternating between lines of hard, destructive lines, and stern repetitions of lighter ones. They cover the entirety of hiss ass, then dip below into the sensitive spot where his ass meets his thighs. He’s going to feel it for days, with every step he takes, every time he sits down. He’s going to be red and welted and aching. Grantaire hears the cane clatter to the ground and he sighs, soaking in the throbbing pain of his ass.

“We done, sir?” He could take more, might argue for it if Enjolras is about to end the scene.

“Nope,” Enjolras says, and rubs another cane against his ass. It’s a fatter one, hefty, one that will leave lines with lighter blows and will bruise him muscle deep with harder ones. “You said you could take more, R. You ready for more?”

“Neon green, sir.” He thinks about the pain, not the bright, stingy one of the lighter cane, but the deep dull ache that this one brings. “Can I cum afterwards, sir?”

Enjolras reaches around him, strokes Grantaire’s bound cock. “We’ll see. Maybe make you bounce on my cock, pressed your bruised ass against me. Maybe I’ll let you cum if you can get off hands free. How does that sound?” He releases Grantaire’s cock and snaps the cane against him. It’s a medium hit, layered on the strokes he’s already taken, and it hurts so hard that his toes curl as he screams. “Maybe I’ll tie you to a chair with your ass aching, put something vibrating near your cock. If you’re good, maybe I’ll even untie your cock. You like the sound of that?”

Grantaire groans, and his cock drips precum onto the wall. Enjolras lands another stripe on him and ache is immediate and deep. 

“I asked you a question, R.”

Grantaire’s mind grapples for the question, sweaty palms pressed hard against the wall. “Anything, sir. Please.”

The next hit is even harder, right at the curviest part of his ass, and Grantaire pressed himself against the wall and as far away from the cane as he can get. His arms are getting tired or being held up, but nothing compares to the pain of his ass. 

“Oh, R. You shouldn’t offer me anything. What if I decide not to let you cum, hmm? Keep hitting you until your ass is purple?”

Grantaire imagines it, the pain and aching and sheer frustration and the need to cum that’s buzzing around his senses. He trust Enjolras, though; trusts Enjolras to hurt him just enough, to listen when Grantaire says he’s done, to drive Grantaire crazy with want and need and pain. “Anything, sir,” he says, and takes a deep breath, prepared for whatever will come next.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we're so close my dudes, if u have things u want lemme know or hold ur peace


	13. Day Twenty-Three: Shibari and Size Difference and Scars

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is a short one bc i am exhausted yo
> 
> this chapter has: rope bondage, body worship, scars, biting, sass, vague size difference

Enjolras ties Grantaire to the bed, ropes anchoring him every hand-width or so apart, so he’s spread out and stuck tight. It’s not quite spread eagle, because that’s too hard to maintain for long periods, and he wants Grantaire tied for as long as he can bear it. Grantaire tries to wiggle but he can’t, and Enjolras’s mouth waters. It’s hot, watching Grantaire, who is bigger and taller and stronger than him, beneath him and stuck in position for him, and hard as a rock. 

The nipple clamps aren’t strictly necessary, but Enjolras likes the way Grantaire looks when he’s hurting.

He straddles Grantaire’s chest, kisses his way down Grantaire’s neck. “What’s this one?” he asks, licking a long scar cutting across Grantaire’s pec.

Grantaire groans, and Enjolras watches as he blinks slowly, trying to find his words. “Uhh, a fence, sir. I jumped a fence. Badly. I badly jumped a fence.”

“Hmmm.” Enjolras grips the chain between the clamps, pulling it taut as he moves to large circular scar on Grantaire’s abs. Grantaire groans at the increased tension, trying to squirm but he’s trapped—he’s trapped because Enjolras has wrapped him up, him with his big strong muscles. “And this one?”

Grantaire’s eyelids flutter and his face is flushed. “Art. Art accident. Burn, sir.”

Enjolras hums, kissing the scar gingerly. “You need to be more careful.”

Grantaire snorts. “Noted, sir.”

He makes his way but up Grantaire’s side, then begins sucking at Grantaire’s bound arm. Little nicks litter his arms, and Enjolras kisses every single one. “How about these?”

“Um.”

Enjolras grips the chain harder, pulling it so far that Grantaire tries to follow the motion upwards. He can’t, but he tries, moaning at the pain of it.

“Mosquito bites, mostly, I think, sir? I itch and then they scar.”

Enjolras laughs. “Maybe next summer I’ll keep your hands bound 24/7. Keep you from scratching. Won’t stop them being itchy, but you’ll just have to deal.” He would never, but the image is hot, and since Enjolras is a good a loving boyfriend, he doesn’t mention anything when Grantaire cock jumps against Enjolras’s thigh. He moves to the scars on Grantaire’s fingertips. “These?”

“Fights,” Grantaire says without pause. “Punching.”

Enjolras bites the fingers. He kisses his way back down the arm, down down down to Grantaire’s thighs, pulling the clamps down as he goes. Grantaire moans gutturally, body tensing and pulling against the ropes.

There’s a gash against Grantaire’s thigh and Enjolras bites that, too. “This one?”

Grantaire frowns. He takes too long to respond, so Enjolras bites him harder and he yelps. “I don’t remember, sir! Maybe that’s the baking accident burn? Or the knife-trick accident?” Enjolras kisses it. “Can I ask a question, sir?” Enjolras nods at him and Grantaire asks, “What is it about my scars that you like?”

Enjolras pulls a little harder on the clamps, and beneath him Grantaire’s whole body tenses, big muscles pulling taut. “I like everything about your body, R. Just showing some particular parts appreciation.”

“I feel extremely appreciated, sir,” Grantaire says with a smirk that falls from his face quickly when Enjolras tugs the chain again. “Thank you, sir.” His voice sounds a little distant, and Enjolras grins into his thigh.

“You are so welcome, Grantaire,” Enjolras says. He grins up at Grantaire. “Now I’m going to leave some marks of my own,” he says, and sucks a bright mark onto Grantaire’s inner thigh as Grantaire tries to struggle away. He’s caught tight, though, groaning, and Enjolras grins and runs his teeth over the mark.

“Yes please, sir,” Grantaire says, smiling dopily. “Mark me up. Make me yours.”

There’s no way Enjolras could argue with that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <3 <3 goodnight


	14. Day Twenty-Nine: Sleepy Sex and Double Penetration

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter has: simulated somnophilia roleplay, a fake threesome again, double penetration, mush
> 
> i know it's late but to be fair shhhh

Grantaire is dozing when Enjolras gets off work. It’s not surprising, considering the hellish week he’s had at work, but it’s the first night in a while they’ve both had off and Enjolras had been looking forward to fucking him. He sighs and strips down, prepared to go another week without, when Grantaire stirs.

His eyes stay closed, but he waves his hand cheerfully at Enjolras. 

“Hey, R,” Enjolras says, leaning down to kiss him. Grantaire scoots to the other side of the bed obligingly, eyes still closed, and Enjolras lies down next to him.

“Thought you were supposed to fuck me?” Grantaire grumbles. His face is buried in the pillow and his voice is hoarse and scratchy with sleep, and Enjolras absolutely shouldn’t find it cute but he does.

Enjolras kisses Grantaire’s shoulder, pulling him in close. “Wouldn’t want to take advantage of you while you’re sleeping.”

Grantaire stiffens, eyes fluttering open, suddenly wide awake. “You could. I mean, we could do that. I could be lying here asleep and defenseless and you could take advantage of me. Bring anyone in and I couldn’t stop you. Anyone, sir.”

Enjolras swallows hard. His dick, already ready for action, springs to life at the thought, and Grantaire sliding into the honorific for him just makes it harder to dismiss. “We are talking a scenario in which are you pretending to sleep through sex, and not actually me fucking you while you’re asleep, because one of those I’m fine with and the other would take more discussion, yes?.”

“Pretending,” Grantaire clarifies quickly, then bats his eyelashes sleepily. “You’d have to be quiet, or you’d wake me. Sneaky, even.”

Enjolras smiles slowly, fantasy unwinding in his mind. “We’ll be quiet. I’m sure we know some people who’d love to fuck you in your sleep. See if we can get you off without waking you up.”

“Can we do this? Let’s do this. Foresty as fuck, let’s go.” Grantaire gives an exaggerated yawn and turns his back to Enjolras. “I’m going to go back to bed, sir,” he says. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

Enjolras slips out of bed. He stops by their toy box and snags a dildo, stashes it in his underwear next to his cock to warm it up a little, then slips out into the front room. It seems silly, but he knows how well sound travels in their small apartment, and knows how much Grantaire likes when they play these games elaborately.

He opens and closes the front door, then says at his normal volume, “I’m glad you could get here so fast. He’s asleep right now, so we have a little time, but you have to be quiet, all right.” Enjolras creeps back into their room. Grantaire is doing deep breathing, and the slow way his chest moves makes it seem like he really is asleep. Enjolras reaches over and double taps his side and Grantaire raises a hand to give him a thumbs up, which reassures him that Grantaire is actually aware enough to consent to this.

He doesn’t think Grantaire could _actually_ sleep through sex even if he tried, but Enjolras emphatically doesn’t want to find out. The image though, having to be so careful with Grantaire, fucking him and having Grantaire wake up with his ass slick with lube and cum and having no idea why. It’s a good fantasy, and Enjolras adjusts his cock so it’s not pressing so uncomfortable against his underwear.

“Shh,” he says to no one. “We have to be quiet.” He slowly, quietly reaches over to the nightstand and grabs the bottle of lube they left out. “Be patient. Have to get him nice and stretched and wet if he’s going to take us both.”

Grantaire groans, muffles it into the pillow. He shifts slightly, a good imitation of how he moves in his sleep, turning more towards his stomach so his ass is more easily accessible and Enjolras grins. He’s not entirely sure what Grantaire gets out of this roleplay—he assumes it’s the loss of control, but it also feels to him like there are less convoluted ways to get there—but if Grantaire wants to try it, he’s really not going to argue.

Then again, when has Grantaire ever chosen a less convoluted way to do anything.

Enjolras gets his fingers sloppy wet and pulls down the covers. While he was out doing his front door charade, Grantaire had stripped off his boxers, and Enjolras takes a moment to feel grateful. While trying to gingerly slip them off Grantaire would have been quite the challenge, it’s been a minute and Enjolras is anxious to fuck his partner.

He rubs his slick finger against Grantaire’s ass, barely pressing and moving slowly until Grantaire yields for him, resistance fading into nothing. He fucks his finger into Grantaire slowly, spreading the lube around then pulling back to add more. Grantaire is squelching with it by the time Enjolras adds a second finger.

Grantaire groans softly, so Enjolras stills his hand and waits for Grantaire to settle. He whispers, “Not so fast, you’ll wake him,” to the empty room, and slides a third finger in to join the others. Grantaire is wet and pliant and spreads for him as he stretches Grantaire as gently and slowly as he can.

After three fingers he says, “I’ll go, then you. Try not to shake the bed too much,” and presses his cock into Grantaire. “Fuck,” he whispers, “you would not believe how fucking wet he is. How tight. And he doesn’t even know we’re here. We could do whatever we wanted and he’d never know. Never find out.” Grantaire shifts his hips back towards Enjolras, so Enjolras pauses, as if nervous to wake Grantaire. He waits, counting to thirty, before he begins thrusting into Grantaire as slowly as he can.

Grantaire is relaxed and wet enough that the finger he presses in next to his cock is barely a stretch at all. The next finger, however, is harder. He pauses a few times, lubing up his fingers and his cock until he has four fingers next to his dick and Grantaire is dripping with lube and dragging his cock across the sheets in gentle little thrusts.

“Shh, be careful.” Enjolras rocks a little on the bed, and it moves as though someone else was climbing on. He slicks up the fake cock, and removing his fingers, eases it into Grantaire’s ass next to his own. It’s tight, deliciously tight and wet and hot, and Grantaire moans. He pauses again, waits for Grantaire to settle, even though he can see how desperate Grantaire is by his death grip on the pillow. He reaches under Grantaire’s tilted hips and gives his cock a firm tug. Grantaire groans but keeps still, somehow, through enormous acts of will. 

He fucks Grantaire slowly, alternating deep thrusts of his own with the fake cock, and pausing every time Grantaire so much as twitches. The grip of Grantaire’s ass on his cock is too much—too warm, too wet, too tight—and when he finally cums he has take a few deep breaths to keep himself from just collapsing on top Grantaire. He eases the fake cock out first, lets himself rest within Grantaire as he begins to jerk Grantaire off. He makes sure to stop every time Grantaire moans or bucks his hips, which is even better when he’s aware enough to see Grantaire struggling to keep a placid face and not to beg.

Next time, he thinks, he’ll have to find a way to keep Grantaire on the edge for longer.

Grantaire cums quickly, wound up and frustrated, with a sigh. Enjolras pulls out of him, slinging an arm around his waist and pulling him in tight. He can feel the lube oozing out of Grantaire against his thigh, but decides they can deal with that later. He holds him close for a few minutes, then gives Grantaire’s hip a gentle double tap. Grantaire snores. Enjolras can barely keep from laughing, can’t believe Grantaire actually fell asleep on him, but decides not to bother Grantaire. He could use the rest.

He must have fallen asleep, too, because Enjolras is awoken some time later by Grantaire kissing him firmly on the lips. “That was fun,” he says, grinning.

Enjolras stretches lazily. “How are you feeling, aftercare wise? Did that nap do it for you, or are you in need now?”

Grantaire makes a soft, considering noise, wiggling closer to Enjolras and laying his head on Enjolras’s chest. “I think I’m okay.” He pauses for a long moment then says, “If we could figure out a way for me to signal I’d be fine with it, I absolutely wouldn’t mind waking up to you stretching me for a scene like that.”

“We can discuss it,” Enjolras replies, because the idea is too hot for him to ignore. Impractical, sure, but he thinks they can probably think of something. He’s so stupidly in love with this man and all of his kinks and quirks and beautiful ideas. “I love you, R.” 

Grantaire makes a contented sigh across his chest. “I love you, too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you all for sticking through this with me!! i think this is the last chapter unless something miraculous happens tomorrow, we'll see

**Author's Note:**

> hi im gabe racetrackthehiggins, please feel free to prompt me or like talk to me about porn i'll be here all month


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